10. Luna

Chapter 10

Luna

M y entire body feels like it's on fire. Like if he stares at me a moment longer, my skin will start to burn the way his did when it was touched by the sunlight.

I stare at my blood on his lips. I expect him to lick them clean. Instead, he leans in and brushes my hair away from my neck.

As his fingertips make contact with my skin, a sigh escapes my mouth. I feel my body tilting toward him, trying to close the space between us. His lips meet my skin. They are damp, still coated with my blood, and as he trails a line of kisses down my throat, I know he is leaving a trail of scarlet with his mouth.

He lifts his head and stares at me. I'm breathing hard, and fast. My chest rising and falling, and making my breasts even more noticeable beneath my cardigan.

With one expert finger, he flicks open the top button, then the next.

Then he uses the same finger to make me tilt my head back, and he licks the blood from my skin. One, long, torturous movement of his tongue that sends shivers of arousal skittering down the front of my body. Between my breasts, over my stomach, to settle between my legs.

"If I told you to stop, would you?" I meet his eyes.

I don't know whether I expect him to tell me the truth. But when he says, "Yes," I believe him.

His hand moves to my waist and unfastens my jeans. He rests his fingers on the waistline of my panties and seems to square his shoulders so he's taller and bigger, and towering over me.

"Do you want me to stop?" His fingers slip lower but stay on top of the fabric.

I stumble backward a little, leaning on the dresser. He moves with me, his palm now resting between my legs, cupping my pussy, applying just the smallest amount of pressure.

"I'll ask you again. Do you want me to stop?" His other hand slides my cardigan from my shoulders. It falls to the floor, leaving me in just my white tank top, jeans open.

My hands move instinctively to my belly, but he catches my wrist. Then he lifts my shirt, bends down, and kisses my stomach. A long, lingering kiss.

No one has ever kissed me there before.

"No," I whisper. "I don't want you to stop."

He kisses me again, gently grazing the soft skin around my bellybutton with his teeth.

A small, kitten-like murmur escapes my lips, and I find myself tilting my pelvis so I'm pressing down onto his palm.

"So warm," he murmurs, lifting his gaze to stare up at me. "Does that mean you're getting wet for me, Luna?"

I can't answer him. Instead, I just stare.

He moves his lips to the side of my stomach, just above my waist, and inhales deeply. He sighs, nips at my flesh with gentle teeth, then kisses me. "Do you know how many times I have dreamed of kissing this spot?" he growls.

I still cannot answer.

When he takes his hand away from my pussy, I almost whimper.

But then he tugs my jeans down, and slides my panties to one side, and gives me his fingers.

I expect him to go straight for my clit, rubbing it furiously the way Steven used to. Desperate to get me off so he could take his turn. Overstimulating me, not listening to my body or what I wanted. Forcing me to fake it just so it's over.

Instead, he stares at me, studies my face, as he drags one torturous finger over my soaking wet slit. He strokes me, my inner thighs, my folds, my entrance. He applies pressure, then takes it away. He makes circles, and lines, and never takes his gaze from mine.

My nipples stiffen and strain against the inside of my bra. I desperately want him to tug down my shirt and expose my breasts. I want him to take one in his mouth and suck.

As the thought enters my head, he narrows his eyes.

"What do you want?" he asks in a timbre that makes my knees shake.

I shake my head. "Just keep doing that." I look down at his hand. His fingers have found my clit and they're making feather-light circles around it. Not touching it. Not yet.

"What else?" he asks.

When I don't reply, he uses his other hand to hold my jaw, so my mouth opens. Then he spits into my mouth.

The gesture shocks me. Makes me feel disgustingly dirty and unbelievably turned on at the same time. I grip the dresser harder. He is still holding my mouth open, and he is now pinching my clit. Hard.

I wince as pain and pleasure collide in my core.

"What do you want?" He repeats the question, loosening his grip on my chin so I can speak.

"I want your mouth…"

"What do you want me to do with my mouth, Luna?"

My entire body feels hot and cold all over. Why is this so difficult? It's like my voice is trapped in my ribcage, straining against my chest. "I want you to play with my nipples."

He growls as I speak, like he's incredibly turned on by hearing me say the words. The look on his face gives me the confidence to continue.

"I want you to use your mouth, and your tongue. Suck. Hard."

He lets go of my chin, then nods for me to take my top off.

I pull it over my head and toss it onto the armchair next to the dresser.

Lucien smiles. It makes his square, chiseled jaw twitch and his eyes glimmer with that little freckle of scarlet I saw before.

He nods approvingly, then unclasps my bra, and lifts it to his face.

He inhales the scent of it, and I'm both a little weirded out and incredibly turned on at the same time.

He drops the bra then lowers his mouth to my left breast. As he seals his lips over my nipple, and caresses it with his tongue, his fingers start to move again. Not pinching now, but stroking. Gentle, slow circles.

He mirrors the movement with his tongue on my nipple.

"I asked you to suck…" The words pass my lips before I have the chance to stop them, and I'm shocked at myself. A look of panic crosses my face. My stomach clenches, and my heartbeat quickens.

But Lucien simply looks up at me, meets my gaze, and does as he's told. He sucks, and when I nod, he sucks harder.

The tension between my legs is building. My arms are straining from bracing my weight, still supporting me by holding onto the dresser.

"I need to hold onto you." I stand up a little straighter and flex my fingers.

The distraction of pain is always guaranteed to stop an orgasm in its tracks.

Lucien grabs my arms and loops them around his neck, then wraps his arm around my waist. "I've got you," he growls. "You can come for me now, Luna."

I'm about to tell him that's unlikely to happen when he returns his mouth to my breasts. His tongue moves faster this time, sucking and flicking at the same time.

His fingers speed up too. Not too hard, but fast.

They move to my entrance, and two of them thrust inside me.

Then back to my clit.

I have no idea how he's moving so fast, and how he seems to know my body better than I do already.

I cry out, every muscle coiling and straining.

I cling onto him. My knees shake, my toes curl in my shoes.

I feel like I'm going to collapse onto the floor, but he holds me tight and says, again and again, "I've got you. I've got you."

When my orgasm finally explodes, I dig my nails into his back, gripping him tightly, breathing hard, pressed against his chest.

He lifts his head from my breasts and takes his hand from between my legs. Then he tilts my chin and kisses me.

Our lips meet, soft and searching. For a long time, we explore each other. Standing there, kissing. When we stop, he stands back and folds his arms, watching me. Still shaking, I pull up my jeans. I feel suddenly, completely exposed. I reach for my bra and my top, but he grabs them before I do then snatches up my cardigan too.

His tenderness has disappeared, and there is frustration in his eyes now.

"You'll have these back when you start believing I brought you here for your safety."

He curls his fist around my clothes. Then turns and strides out of the room, locking the door behind him.